Lake Powell 2012

The long awaited Lake Powell trip, came and went like a high school relationship... but it was more significant. In general the travel day (whether to Utah or Arizona) is always more hectic than we expect, although it is always worth it. We woke up early, got to the airport at a perfect time (combining my over active planning and Shayna's fashionably "5" minutes late is a good middle ground), navigated through the sea of incompetent airport "professionals" and the even larger sea of novices who try to bring too many liquids and sharp objects through the security station, and made our way to the back-most seats on the plane. Downside: these are the only seats that don't recline; Upside: they provided a few empty seats across the isle from us. The 3.5hrs were alright until Trace decided to be "that child" that everyone glares back at...he was screaming so loud...anyways... we landed and were met by mom and katherine, and made it to the lake safely after a pleasant 6 hour drive.
We left the marina by ski boat later than expected because of multiple set backs (not enough life jackets on the boat, a jet ski that wouldn't start, tracking down a spotlight, etc). It was dark by the time that we set out. Cory and I used a spotlight to go from buoy to buoy, while Sarah and Mom followed close behind on jets skis (and sometimes too close beside- we found out after the trip that Sarah has no depth perception and that she was probably the one with the worst night vision- kudos Sarah for making it alive!). Cory and I didn't know that some of the buoys were not lit up, and upon passing one very close beside, we slowed down a bit. The whole experience was the topic of many parables for the rest of the trip. The temperature was perfect and the water was a nice 80 F. Shayna didn't ski or wake board because she has a bun in the oven and I didn't because... I have no excuses. I spent all the time in the water with Trace. He LOVED it. If we believed in reincarnation, he would come back as a fish. Drayke (Traces older cousin), would probably come back as a clam... he ate a few cups of sand each day... that kid is rugged. He'll never be called a sissy, that's for sure. We got to sleep out on the front (I think its called the bow) of the houseboat- we feel very special to have gotten that coved spot (probably the coolest and least bat/mosquito ridden area on the boat). Thanks guys. The trip was was complete only because all the women dressed up in bathing suits from the 80's (Shayna found them at a store, stuck in the past, in our current hometown McKenzie). Some of these women never even got to experience the 80s in their lifetime, but from the pictures you would never know it. Thankfully the 80's were a time of great fashion sense, so there is nothing they should feel embarrassed about. The trip was perfect great food, time to catch up with everyone (especially Joe who we hadn't seen or really even talked to in over 2 years- he has only changed for the better and thankfully has not changed too much), almost no sunburns (Shayna got fried on the last few hours on the water), and the one day we spent in St George broke up the drive home nicely.
[Insert Paragraph 1 here for the trip home... basically it was all the same, except no back seats, no empty seats, and we didn't have to wake up early].
We are so blessed to have a families that we both love and keep in touch with. Can't wait to live closer to them someday!

Trailer Treasures...Not Trash

We've begun a new life... in a trailer. What it lacks in glamor is made up for in sheer insanity.

In the middle of a hectic second semester Chris began to feel uneasy about our living situation and wanted to consider another option. What was it that brought on this uneasiness? It could have been the countless men roaming the street in front of our apartment toting rottweilers on chains in the middle of the day. Or it could have been the Slatterys down the road that shot off fireworks during the night (well after the 4th of July). Whatever it was, we may never know. Somewhere in the beginning of the uneasiness Chris started researching RV's and RV living. Shayna was sure this was a passing stage... Chris was hooked after reading just a few geriatric RV blogs. The romance and adventure they promised on the open road seemed like the life we needed.

Shayna got on board with the decision to move after she discovered that Chris had been sleeping with a .40 by the bedside. She thought that maybe what Chris meant by trailer was actually a new apartment in a safer part of town (one that wasn't on the wrong side of the tracks...literally, we used to live across 2 sets of railroad tracks). At some point she realized that this may be the only dream that Chris would ever have in his life... and she let him run with it. Shayna eventually thought it would be fun to live in a trailer, probably partially from the peer pressure of having had half of her siblings (Sunde, Kody, and Kasey and their families) begin their marriages in trailers... and they turned out great!

So during some of Chris' "free time" (mainly during 2 very boring classes that shall forever remain a secret) he looked on Craigslist, marketplace, and many other online listings, for our dream RV and truck. Ironically, at the end of our search, it was Shayna that found both the truck and the RV.

The truck was mislisted for the Nashville area (2 hrs from McKenzie), but was actually down in Mobile Alabama (7 hrs away). We thought that was the end of it, but the people had family up near Nashville and were willing to meet us there the next day. After a few test drives, Black Beauty was ours, it was definitely meant to be. We had to neuter the poor thing (his 3 inch Body Lift scared Chris when it came to towing... and we couldn't find anyone that was willing to do a custom 5th wheel installation).

Our RV is a diamond in the rough. An older couple in Kentucky had babied it for 9 years and felt that their RVing days were over. Alan, the previous owner,  thought Chris was a scammer at first because his cell number is from Utah, but soon he learned that we were quality RV wannabes. The correspondence over email was like having a pen pal while in middle school ( I think we totaled over 70 emails in the month before we picked up the RV). On the day when we brought our baby home, Chris drove 3 hours north to Kentucky, had breakfast with our new RV pals, and headed home... Papa Mike would have been proud. Chris took a wrong turn 5 miles down the road (y'all out west have no idea the maze of country roads we live by) and made a 16 point turn in a little clearing. No other mishaps occurred, and the long awaited Ruby (short for Starcraft Aruba... we thought the nickname made it sound like a granny with flair... basically what she is) was home at last... er... she is the home now... so I guess we we're home at last.

Chris' buddy Chris (from school) hooked us up with a place to park our home. He rents from the most amazing landlord EVER, the 100% southern grandpa, Jimmy. He is a member of the Church of God of Prophecy (and proud of it... we love him!).  We're parked up on his acreage a ways out of town. Call us crazy, but we love our new home on wheels.

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